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Monday, 2 November 2015

A Day Out Of Season

Slept so deep I went underneath sleep, underneath dreams.
I think I slipped out of the universe entirely.
And woke up here.
Warm as summer, the bright air full of small, noisy birds.
I will peg washing out as an offering to this sun.
After walking by the glass river, arms bared; home to drink coffee and eat ice cream, sat at the wobbling pallet table. The seats are damp, nobody cares.
Just sit and taste the bitter-sweet.